David Brooks Isn't a 'Sap', He's a Moron

It might be that case that David Brooks penned his column yesterday weeping uncontrollably while wearing his best red wig to help him get into character for the most comically bad Maureen Dowd imitation of the year.

He writes, intoning like the 16-year old blond cheerleader jilted by the quarterback in favor of the mysterious brunette who just moved into town:

Yes, I'm a sap. I believed Obama when he said he wanted to move beyond the stale ideological debates that have paralyzed this country.

This writing so hilariously dreadful that we should rejoice in Brooks' having left the conservative reservation after being dazzled by Obama's covered thighs in 2005: "...and I was looking at his pant leg and his perfectly creased pant, and I'm thinking, a) he's going to be president and b) he'll be a very good president."

Almost every line in Brooks' column reminds us that maybe that notoriously awful opening line, "It was a dark and stormy night," was not such bad prose after all.

But remember, I'm a sap. The White House has clearly decided that in a town of intransigent Republicans and mean ideologues, it has to be mean and intransigent too.

Apparently, David was making a long entry in his lovelorn diary and missed it when his presidential flame followed the vile Jimmy Hoffa on stage shortly after Hoffa ranted, "Let's take these sons of bitches out." Mean boys have mean friends, David.

Being a sap, I still believe that the president's soul would like to do something about the country's structural problems. I keep thinking he's a few weeks away from proposing serious tax reform and entitlement reform.

I might be a sap too. But if this exhausted pathetic heap of emotional human flesh is all that's left of Obama's elite intellectual Potemkin village, then our victory is in the bag for 2012.

Claude can be reached at csandroff@gmail.com

It might be that case that David Brooks penned his column yesterday weeping uncontrollably while wearing his best red wig to help him get into character for the most comically bad Maureen Dowd imitation of the year.

He writes, intoning like the 16-year old blond cheerleader jilted by the quarterback in favor of the mysterious brunette who just moved into town:

Yes, I'm a sap. I believed Obama when he said he wanted to move beyond the stale ideological debates that have paralyzed this country.

This writing so hilariously dreadful that we should rejoice in Brooks' having left the conservative reservation after being dazzled by Obama's covered thighs in 2005: "...and I was looking at his pant leg and his perfectly creased pant, and I'm thinking, a) he's going to be president and b) he'll be a very good president."

Almost every line in Brooks' column reminds us that maybe that notoriously awful opening line, "It was a dark and stormy night," was not such bad prose after all.

But remember, I'm a sap. The White House has clearly decided that in a town of intransigent Republicans and mean ideologues, it has to be mean and intransigent too.

Apparently, David was making a long entry in his lovelorn diary and missed it when his presidential flame followed the vile Jimmy Hoffa on stage shortly after Hoffa ranted, "Let's take these sons of bitches out." Mean boys have mean friends, David.

Being a sap, I still believe that the president's soul would like to do something about the country's structural problems. I keep thinking he's a few weeks away from proposing serious tax reform and entitlement reform.

I might be a sap too. But if this exhausted pathetic heap of emotional human flesh is all that's left of Obama's elite intellectual Potemkin village, then our victory is in the bag for 2012.